How does love speak? . . . In the embrace where madness melts in bliss, And the convulsive rapture of a kiss– Thus doth Love speak. –Ella Wheeler Wilcox
At the heart of love lies the quickening of the senses–the thrill of touch, the perfume of passion, the taste and the voice of love, the vision of the beloved.
Sensual love has inspired poets throughout the ages–from the Bible’s beautiful Song of Songs to the lively evocations of sensual love and the private world of lovers created by such gifted contemporary poets as Stanley Kunitz, Maya Angelou, and W. S. Merwin. Here gathered are the truest and the loveliest– verses that tantalize the heart and celebrate the sweet turmoil of passion. Sensual Love Poems is a bouquet the freshness of which never fades, a feast for the senses . . . forever.
When I picked up a poetry collection entitled "Sensual Love Poems," I didn't expect it to be so...problematic?
It's probably not talked about enough, but there's a distinct difference between love and obsession. This collection leaned heavily toward the obsession end of things, and there was a lot more coercion/non-consent than I expected.
Additionally, I hadn't previously noticed how often "white" is used as a descriptor in love poems, but my goodness it was overused here. There were a number of other word choices that I could have done without (including multiple references to lover/sister being synonymous???), but the use of "white" was my biggest gripe.
Overall, I did not enjoy this collection, but there were a few poems here and there that fit the theme and didn't also give me the creeps.
I bought this book with a few other poetry collections at Borders before it shut down. It is a largely interesting and very idiosyncratic collection, but I actually contains very little "sensual" love poetry, which I found fairly deceptive given its title. This said, there were some great poems in the book. This is one of my favorites, from Rilke:
How can I keep my soul in me, so that it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise it high enough, past you, to other things? I would like to shelter it, among remote lost objects, in some dark and silent place that doesn't resonate when your depths resound. Yet everything that touches us, me and you, takes us together like a violin's bow, which draws *one* voice out of two separate strings. Upon what instrument are we two spanned? And what musician holds us in his hand? Oh sweetest song. Rainer Maria Rilke "Love Song"
The title of this book is a touch misleading. I wouldn't call this a book solely filled with sensual love poems. This compilation is more a broad sampling of the many facets of love. Romance, infatuations, lust, obsession, compassion and yearning are all portrayed. It's like a scattering of precious stones: some are sparkling & wonderful while others are a touch dull. It all depends on the reader's taste preference whether they should be considered jewels or not.